Dreaming Of You
by Chelsea Oz
Summary: One shot. Jem pays Scout a visit in a dream the night he is laid to rest.
_"Scout," Jem whispers out loud into the night at me. "What are you swinging this late at night for?"_

 _"I'm looking up at the moon and stars, Jem," I reply, not budging from my place inside the tire swing._

 _"You fool," he condensences. I'm trying real hard not to pay any attention to him. "It's not summer anymore, Scout; it's in the dead of autumn and you could almost bet your ass you'll catch a cold being out like this at night with nothing but your pjs on."_

 _"I'm ten years old," I say defiantly and still not looking back at him. "I don't need saving. I'm not a football for you to catch, Jem."_

 _"Okay, you win," I hear him huff. I count his footsteps until I hear him reach the screen door. That was when I turn around to look at him only to realize he knew that's what I was going to do. Shit, he knew me too well._

 _"Hey," he calls out to me._

 _"What?"_

 _"I know you're not a football but one day when I'm not around you'll regret losing me, I promise."_

He was right. I lay here in my bed with a cigarette in my hand, trears in my eyes, and that fucking memory in my head. I laid my brother to rest today and today is the day that Jem promised all those years ago. I wonder if he ever remembered that night as well and I prayed that he hadn't. God, why did I have to be such a shithead sometimes? If he ever did remember it, I wonder how bad my words hurt him? They had to have. I wipe my face, burn out my cigarette and go to the window to see that the moon and stars went on shining.

"Jem," I whisper out into the night. "Are you okay out there?"

I got no answer. Not that I expected one anyways. I'd like to personally slap the person who came up with the adage that silence was golden. It most certainly isn't golden; it's a steel gray punishment. There was no comfort to be found and I threw myself on the bed and cried some more. Life as I knew it was never going to be the same. Fuck me.

"Scout," I heard Jem call out for me.

"Leave me alone, Jem," I answered. God, what an inconsiderate bastard! Doesn't he know I'm in mourning?

"Jean Louise Finch, you are such a girl," he then taunted.

"Listen, I..."

It wasn't until I turned around and faced him that I realized who I was talking to. God, I'm so stupid sometimes. He wasn't the man he grew up to be; he looks exactly the same as he did when he was ten. Ten, the same age he was when our story began.

"It's nice to see you," I tell him as I crawl over to the side of the bed to meet him. I went to go touch his face but then I withdrew because I was afraid he would leave. I knew this was his apparition and not the real him.

"You can touch me, Scout. It's okay," he encouraged.

My hands couldn't touch his face fast enough. His cheeks felt real to me, his eyes were full of life and he was smiling at me. I smiled back at him and realized that I hadn't smiled in the three days since I found out he had passed. His arms found his way around my waist and I hugged him around his neck.

"Hey," he whispered in my ear.

"What?"

"I liked your hat."

I began to laugh so hard that I thought Atticus or Aunty or Uncle Jack would walk in and declare me clinically insane. Jem thought so too because he put his hand to my mouth in order for me to be quiet. Oh, it felt so good to laugh again!

"I need you to promise me something," he says next.

"What?"

"I need you to promise me that you're going to live."

"What else am I supposed to do?"

"I know but please go on, just for me, won't you?"

"Okay."

"I mean it now. I want you to laugh and joke and be crazy, old Scout because you're not Jean Louise; you're Scout, always were and always will be."

"Feels good to be called Scout again, not going to lie."

"You'll always be Scout to me. I love you."

"I love you, too."

I woke up right where we hugged. The dawn was breaking and the moon and the stars were gone. I got up from the bed and went to my mirror and stared long and hard at the woman who stared back at me. I didn't look away from her even when I heard the door knock.

"Come in," I answered.

"Jean Louise," Hank called out as he swung the door open. "Are you okay, honey?"

"My name is Scout, Hank and yes, I'm fine."


End file.
